


Bittersweetheart

by tonberry



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Infidelity, M/M, Post-Canon, Prostitution, Sugar Daddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 06:23:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11572221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonberry/pseuds/tonberry
Summary: Nine years later, Victor asks Yuri to come to Japan. Yuri realises immediately that something is wrong.Written for a Victurio kink meme prompt.Translation available:Slovak





	Bittersweetheart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foxfireflamequeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxfireflamequeen/gifts).
  * Translation into Slovenčina available: [Bittersweetheart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12864795) by [splendid_sun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/splendid_sun/pseuds/splendid_sun)



_Congratulations on this year’s gold, Yura! Come to Fukuoka, won’t you? It’s been too long~_

Yuri stares at the message, fingers tightening around his phone. Now twenty-five, with his sixth consecutive gold at Worlds, and that’s all that geriatric has-been has to say? He drops his phone back into his bag without replying.

He’ll go. He already knows that he will. It’s been over two years since he last saw either of them in person, and he fucking misses them – though he’d die before ever admitting it. But the day after he arrives back in Russia, he books his tickets and starts typing a text to Victor; he deletes it, then tries again, and finally throws his phone at the wall.

A week of deliberation later, he at last sends Victor his arrival details.

_And pick me up from the airport, yeah? I can’t navigate this shit._

Victor’s response is as immediate and effusive as ever, and Yuri can’t help but smile, just a little.

The Victor who’s waiting to meet him outside of arrivals looks different, somehow. Older. More tired. And when he sees Yuri and his face lights up, there’s a desperation in his smile that Yuri doesn’t recall ever seeing before. Victor pulls him close, and Yuri lets himself close his eyes, just for a moment.

“How was your flight?” Victor asks, and though he pulls back his hands linger on Yuri’s arms. It’s strange, finally hearing Russian from him again, and though he’s just arrived in a foreign country it feels like home.

He shrugs. “Not bad. Long.” The buzz and chatter of the airport surrounds them; strangers, all of them. “Where’s Katsudon?”

Victor’s smile freezes, just for a second, but then it’s loose and easy again, and he puts an arm around Yuri’s shoulders.  “Oh, he’s on a business trip,” he says lightly, “he’s sorry he couldn’t make it.”

Yuri just nods. Victor’s always been a good liar, but not with him. He glances sideways, to where Victor’s hand rests on his shoulder. He’s still wearing his ring. He turns to meet Victor’s gaze pointedly. “Maybe I should text him.”

“Ah, better not,” Victor says, and who the fuck does he think he’s fooling? “He doesn’t like to be disturbed, you know?”

Yuri knows that’s a load of shit. Victor must _know_ he knows it’s a load of shit. So, why? “Yeah, sure.” He lets Victor drag his suitcase with one hand, and with his other he keeps hold of Yuri all the way to the subway.

It’s a nice city, Fukuoka. He can see why they settled down here. Clean, pretty. Big enough that a foreigner like Victor won’t feel too isolated, close enough to Hasetsu that Katsudon can see his family on occasion. Yuri doesn’t think he could do it, though, and he can’t see how Victor can stand it.

“Did you book a hotel?”

Yuri looks up in surprise. “No?” The feeling of unease that’s been settling in his stomach since the mention of Katsudon’s ‘business trip’ turns to lead. “Should I have?”

“Well,” Victor drags his suitcase onto the train, and Yuri squeezes in to stand beside him. “We’re having renovations done so the apartment is a little, ah, uninhabitable right now?” Yuri doesn’t say anything. Let Victor lie if it makes him feel better about whatever the fuck is wrong in his life. “But I know a nice hotel nearby, so don’t worry about it! Money’s not a concern these days, right?”

In the crush of the train, he’s pressed up flush against Victor’s front, and even though he’s almost as tall as Victor now it brings back a flood of adolescent fantasies. He shifts and stares over Victor’s shoulder, uncomfortably warm. “Yeah, whatever.” It’s only a ten minute journey or so to their station, but the minutes drag by interminably slowly. Maybe Victor’s having some kind of mid-life crisis. That can happen in your thirties, right?

Yuri feels momentarily disoriented when they emerge from Akasaka station into darkness, and Victor grabs his arm again. “It’s just down this street,” he says, smile bright. “I think you’ll like it.”

Victor talks non-stop as they walk; about Yuri’s career, about the new little restaurant that opened up down the street, about how recently he’s been thinking of getting a new dog and— “ _Victor._ ”

Victor falls silent and glances away, sheepish smile twisting his lips. “Sorry. I know you must be tired.” They make their way into the spacious, golden foyer of the hotel, and all the marble and obsequiously bowing staff make Yuri feel weird. “I just – it’s just nice to speak Russian again.” His voice is quiet, but it hits Yuri like a punch in the gut. “Let’s get you a room!”

Yuri lets Victor handle the whole thing; the staff probably speak English, but it’s pretty fucking cool hearing Victor converse so smoothly in Japanese. All Yuri has to do is fill in a form, let them photocopy his passport, and then hand over his credit card. Because Yuri does have money these days, and a lot of it. The kind of money he could only have dreamed about as a fifteen-year-old. Now, though… he’s always invested well, thanks to Lilia’s advice. Always taken the best sponsorships and advertisement deals that came his way, because even though he’s number one now, he knows it won’t last forever. He bought his Grandpa a new car, has made sure he’s comfortable – and that’s all Yuri ever really wanted. That, and security. Of not having to worry about paying bills the way his parents screamed at each other about. Of not having to wear three sweaters in bed as winter approaches, because turning on the heating is too expensive.

Yeah, Yuri’s done with all that, but it’s a feeling he’ll never forget. And then Victor’s leading him away to the elevator, brandishing the key card for a room that’s probably nicer than any Yuri’s ever stayed in before. Inside, Victor pushes the button for the twelfth floor, and lounges back against the mirrored wall. “It’s really good to see you, Yura.” It’s a casual pose, but Yuri can’t drag his gaze away from the way Victor’s hip juts out, jeans tight and expensive as always. It feels blatantly provocative, in a way his behaviour never used to. It’s nothing different, not really, but without Katsudon here the air feels tense. “Did you miss me?”

The elevator chimes and the doors glide open, so Yuri takes the chance to pull himself together and force a laugh. It’s probably no more convincing than Victor’s pathetic lies, but why shouldn’t he play the same game? “Don’t be so full of yourself.” He lets Victor find the room, follows him inside and swears with annoyance when he realises he has to take his shoes off.

“I thought you’d like the Japanese style room!” Victor beams. “It’s a _little_ more expensive, and the bed’s still western, of course, but doesn’t the tatami remind you of when we stayed at Yuutopia?”

It does. It’s weird how smells can transport you back, but suddenly it’s like he’s fifteen again, back in that shitty closet adjoining Victor’s room, trying to jerk off silently surrounded by the musty smell of dried grass.

He kicks off his shoes and goes through; it’s insanely spacious which Yuri thinks is a fucking waste, to be honest, but Victor’s already wandering around, talking excitedly about all the things they should do this week. He peers into the bathroom (an elaborate construction of glass panes and bamboo) and finally makes his way to the bedroom only to find Victor flopped out on the bed like he belongs there.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Victor raises his head slightly. “Relaxing. You should try it sometime.”

And spite rears its ugly head, because there never used to be this deception between them, and the fact that Victor seems to think he can get away with it makes him want to kick the fakeness out of him. “And your _husband_ would be fine with you relaxing on another guy’s hotel bed, would he?” Victor lets his head drop back down, and the silence lasts a moment too long to pretend everything is okay.

“No,” Victor’s voice is quiet and tight, “he wouldn’t.”

Which says it all, really, and _now_ Yuri wants to kick him for apparently being such a selfish, cheating piece of shit. But he’s known and loved Victor too long to miss the pain in his voice, and exhales deeply. “Well, get up. I want some fucking ramen.”

\--------------

They get ramen. Tonkotsu, the local specialty, and Yuri loses count of how many beers Victor has. Yuri pays. He ends up having to drag Victor back to the apartment, though it takes longer than it should have because Victor keeps confusing the directions. Yuri pushes him through the doorway, and Victor turns around with an unhappy twist to his mouth. “I don’t want to sleep here,” he slurs, and Yuri can see through to the apartment behind him. There are no renovations, of course. It looks like a hurricane hit it.

“Just for tonight,” he mutters, because the way Victor is looking at him is making his heart hurt. “Tomorrow you can stay at the hotel, yeah?”

Victor’s face breaks out into the first genuine smile Yuri’s seen since he’s been here, and lurches forward to kiss his cheek. “You won’t regret it, Yura,” he whispers in Yuri’s ear, and Yuri feels his stomach drop. Fuck, why does he still want him so much?

He pushes Victor away. “Drink some water and go the fuck to bed,” he says roughly, though his heart is pounding. “Call me in the morning, okay?”

Victor nods, and is looking at him so fondly he can’t stand it, like Yuri is his fucking saviour or something. He turns and leaves, and as he descends the stairs hears Victor call out, “oyasumi nasai!” He pulls up his hood and stuffs his hands in his pockets, trying to remember how to get back to the main road. At least getting a taxi doesn’t require more than saying the name of the hotel.

As soon as he gets back to his room, he pulls out his phone and texts Katsudon.

_Are you ok?_

It’s still not that late, and the response comes quickly.

_Yeah, thanks. I’m staying with my parents. I guess you talked to Victor?_

_Kind of_ , he types, nausea twisting his stomach again, _I’m in Japan. He didn’t tell me a thing_.

There’s a longer pause, this time, and Yuri finds that his hands are trembling. He flops down on the bed, remembering at the same time how earlier Victor had done exactly the same. Finally, a reply comes.

_I see. Please make sure he doesn’t do anything dangerous, Yuri. Look after him for me?_

Dangerous? A cold fear creeps up his spine. What the fuck has been going on?

_Yeah. I don’t think he’s doing too well. Take care of yourself, too._

All Katsudon sends back is: _Thanks_.

He sleeps badly, and blames jetlag.

The next morning, he doesn’t hear from Victor. So he braves the outside alone, and wanders to the nearby park since the sakura are almost in bloom. There are stupid rentable swan boats on the lake that he recognises from an old Instagram photo of Victor’s. He’s trying to get a good selfie with a backdrop of blossoms when Victor finally calls him. His voice sounds tired and raspy, and considerably more subdued than yesterday.

“Where are you? Sorry, I should be showing you around.”

“Yeah, you should.” Yuri frowns and leans back against a tree. “I’m in the park near the dumb swan boats. Hurry up.”

“I’ll be right there!” Victor says, sounding considerably brighter, and Yuri hangs up. The selfie he takes is terrible, but he uploads it anyway because he can’t be assed to focus on redoing it right now. When Victor finally appears, he looks like shit – but, being Victor, he still looks beautiful, even with dark circles under his eyes and unstyled hair. “Let’s go shopping!” he announces, and Yuri just gives him a sour look. Yuri sits down under the tree, crossing his legs, and Victor suddenly seems a little unsure of himself.

“Talk to me.”

It’s like Victor’s face instantly drains of all colour and cheer. He slips his hands into the pockets of his coat which probably cost more than Yuri’s entire outfit. “I don’t think—”

“Sit _down_ , Victor,” he grinds out, and it’s not the first time he’s felt like the lone adult between the two of them, and can’t imagine it will be the last. Why the fuck is Victor so incapable of taking care of himself? “And you will tell me, right now, exactly what the fuck is going on.” Victor stares down at him for a moment, looking so lost Yuri just wants to take him away from everything. This isn’t where Victor should be, and maybe it never has been. He’d be angry at Katsudon for leaving him alone like this – and he is, in a way – but he also knows that Victor probably deserves it.

Victor sits down beside him and lets his head fall back against the trunk of the tree, staring up at the blossoms. “So,” he begins slowly, “I’m broke.”

It’s not… a complete surprise. Though Victor had always spent so freely that Yuri just assumed he had a big inheritance or something, because Victor’s lifestyle had been way too flashy even for someone running ice shows. “Why?”

Victor’s gaze slides over to him, smile sad. “You know why. I like nice things, nice clothes, nice restaurants – I always have. I guess I never really thought about the money running out.”

It doesn’t quite add up, though. Yuri narrows his eyes at him. “Katsudon wouldn’t leave you for being shit at money management, we both know that.” Victor visibly flinches, and takes a deep breath.

“I…” He hunches forward, hair falling over his eyes. Yuri wants to touch him, wants to reassure him everything will be fine, that he’s here now, but he doesn’t. He waits. “I may… have gone back to my old ways.”

Yuri stares at him blankly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I guess you wouldn’t have noticed, you were too small.” Victor’s resting his forehead on his knees; his right hand, ring still on, is beside him pulling at the grass. “But… when you’re young and pretty, it’s not so hard to get money and designer things. Turns out, it’s not so hard now, either.”

Realisation hits him like a sledgehammer. “You fucking _moron_. What did you think would happen?” He doesn’t mean to yell, but it’s out before he can hold back. Victor still hasn’t moved, just the small pile of grass beside him is growing larger. “Why didn’t you just ask your _husband_ for money like a normal person, what’s wrong with you?” He can barely spit the words out because he knows, right then, that there’s something Victor had managed to keep hidden from him, all this time. And it hurts, even though he has no right to feel this way, because this isn’t _about_ him.

“I did,” Victor sounds hollow and defeated, like he has no more emotion left to give. “He looked so disappointed. Not angry, of course, he just said, ‘oh, _Vitya_ ’, in the same tone of voice my mother used to use. So I didn’t ask again.”

“You just—” Yuri breaks off and runs both hands through his hair. “And that was the solution you came up with? Not, you know, finding another fucking _job_?”

Victor looks up at that, and his smile is ugly. “This was easier. Faster. Familiar. I’m well aware it was moronic, Yura, hindsight is twenty-twenty. Or would you like to tell me in further detail how I ruined my life?”

“ _You could have asked me_ ,” Yuri hisses, and – why hadn’t he? Yuri’s broken all Victor’s records, is the top skater in the _world_ ; Victor must know he has money.

“Mm,” Victor glances away evasively. “I still have some pride, you know.”

The wind is picking up and making Yuri shiver. He doesn’t blame Katsudon, not one bit. But this is _his_ Victor sitting here, and Yuri realises for the first time in his life that he can be the one to take care of him – every shitty part of him. Victor had done the same for him, right? Helped him with his skating when he was young, bought him things when he’d had no money except his small skating stipend. The guilt of now knowing where part of that money must have come from settles uncomfortably in his gut.

He stands up. “C’mon,” he says, and Victor stares up at him, soft lips parted in surprise. “You wanted to go shopping, right?”

“I thought you’d be angrier,” Victor admits, brushing off the grass and getting to his feet.

Yuri takes a deep breath. “I’m angry that you fucked up your chance at a normal life, yeah. Now I guess you’re stuck with me, huh?” He doesn’t even have a chance to react before Victor’s hugging him, face buried in his hair and arms clinging so tightly he can hardly breathe. Part of him is still very aware that he should probably be telling Victor to grow the fuck up and get professional help and a proper job that doesn’t involve sleeping with strangers when he gets desperate, but – if Yuri’s taking care of him, that won’t be necessary, right? Maybe all he really needs is Yuri. “Just – let me take care of you for a while, yeah?”

So he lets Victor drag him around all his favourite shops, and his credit card gets more use than it’s seen in years. And – what really strikes him is, he actually _enjoys_ it. He tries not to show it, but seeing Victor happy like this makes his chest ache and his conscience quiet. If they both like this then it’s fine, right?

The looks Victor keeps throwing him don’t hurt, either – just like before, except now it’s as though Victor’s realised he has no reason to hold back. So Yuri takes him to dinner at his favourite restaurant – more high-class than anywhere Yuri would _ever_ consider going normally, but he likes watching the confidence with which Victor talks to the waiter and pores over the wine list. However, when it’s time to pay, Yuri doesn’t even let him see the bill, just tells him to wait outside.

And when it’s time to leave, there’s no question of whether or not Victor will come back to the hotel with him. After all, he’d already promised.

When Yuri sits back on the edge of the wide hotel bed, Victor sinks down between his legs and looks up at him, waiting. “And what do you want, Yura?” His tone is teasing, but it’s the affection in Victor’s voice that breaks him. Because it’s a disgustingly blurry line, he’s well aware, that separates him from those other men. But he’s weak, and he’s wanted Victor too long to deny himself this.

He reaches out to brush the fall of Victor’s hair away from his eyes. “You.” Even though it’s just one word his voice is unsteady, and he hates himself for it. But Victor _knows_ , because he knows Yuri, and instead of replying just slides his hands slowly up Yuri’s thighs, and leans forward to mouth at his cock through his pants, because Yuri’s been hard since they walked through the door.

And he feels like shit, because he knows full well this is not what Katsudon meant by _taking care of Victor_ , but he can’t stop himself. He tugs on Victor’s hair as Victor sucks him off, tangles his fingers in it and comes in Victor’s mouth. Then Victor’s crawling over him, pushing him back onto the bed and licking into his mouth so Yuri can taste himself.

“Fuck me,” Victor says, “you want me, don’t you?”

Yuri just kisses him harder in answer, then fucks him until they can hardly move for exhaustion. They sleep tangled up in one another, and in the morning Yuri fucks him again.

“Victor,” he says, and when he glances down Victor’s soft hair is fanned out over his chest.

“Mm?”

“Come back to Russia with me.”

He feels Victor tense, watches him lift his hand and stare at the ring that he somehow still hasn’t been able to bring himself to take off. Yuri waits, and minutes pass before Victor finally answers.

“Yeah, I –” Victor turns his face into Yuri’s chest, fingers digging into his sides sharply. “Yes.”

Yuri can’t see his expression, but knows Victor will understand it’s the right decision in time. Russia is where he belongs. Back home, where Yuri can take care of him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the Ed Harcourt song of the same name.


End file.
